


No Ordinary Love (Between You and I)

by Emeli_Thorne



Series: Cosmic Love [1]
Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Frank is a helpful neighbour, Frank's a detective, Maria is an artist, Maria's down with cold, and leaving his dog with maria, but are too blind to see, frank going undercover, love happens, they got the hots for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-06-21 20:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15565464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeli_Thorne/pseuds/Emeli_Thorne
Summary: Maria has had awful two days, her body being ravaged by cold. Her hot neighbour Frank shows up on the third night with a bowl of warm soup and something in Maria changes.aka Maria and Frank falling in love and being too cute





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FFanon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFanon/gifts).



> tumblr prompt by @kteague: Maria and Frank are newly dating. She turns him down for a date night because she's sick, and despite her not wanting him to see her like that, Frank shows up to take care of her :)
> 
> Okay, so... this fic is not this prompt at all. I'm sorry, K. I hope you can forgive me. I wanted to write your prompt but it actually prompted another idea and this fic is that.
> 
> This is a MARIA X FRANK AU that I hope y'all like. I apologise if its too ooc, but I didn't have much to work with since Maria got so little screentime and this fic won't be angst-filled. I intent to make if as fluff and cute as possible :D

 

Her chest was going to explode. Yep, it was going to explode along with her face.

_Here it comes, here it comes, here –_

Another sound ripped from her throat, effectively killing her sinuses, “Achoo!” followed by two more, “Achoo! Achoo!”

Blowing her nose, Maria threw herself back into her bed, heavy groans escaping her and she felt utterly tired.

This has been going on for two days now - her body being ravaged by cold making her useless for anything that did not include lying in bed, drinking excessive amounts of herbal tea and pouring her insides out into paper tissues. She must have gone through some five rolls of toilet paper already (yeah, toilet paper because it’s much softer on her poor nose that’s been through so much in the last forty-eight hours) and no matter how much she tried to clean up the mess, there were always tissues scattered all over the floor, her bed and nightstand.

Maria could hardly speak, constant coughing having scratched her throat raw and her nose felt as if it were the size of an eggplant that kept on growing with each passing hour. Her eyes didn’t feel much better either; they were itchy and felt dry so she had to administer the eye drops she used more than she usually did.

Her faithful sweatpants and hoodie offered her some comfort at the beginning, but now even they were useless against the damn cold.

Through her hazy mind, just as she was falling asleep, Maria heard a few reluctant knocks on her door. Groaning and sniffing, she draped a bathrobe around herself and dragged her feet to the darkened hallway. Turning on the light, she peered through the peephole.

To her utmost surprise, it was someone she’d never expected to see at this late hour much less to have them come knocking on _her_ door at this hour.

Checking her features in the mirror and realising there was nothing she could do to improve her appearance, Maria snuggled deeper into her bathrobe and opened the door to one Frank Castle.

She couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her chapped lips at seeing him, in spite of her poor condition.

Frank was her next-door neighbour whom Maria has had a crush on ever since she moved into this building, some six months ago. The crush was prompted by Frank’s welcoming demeanour, especially when he helped her carry piles and piles of boxes to her apartment. He was the only person in that building who offered his help and when they realised they were going to live next to each other, Maria couldn’t help the blush creeping up her cheeks. Thankfully, she could sign that off as exhaustion from carrying ten boxes up the stairs and not as sudden thirst that started growing in her for her handsome neighbour.

Frank was just a few inches taller than she was, with dark brown hair and eyes that harboured so much warmth in them. His broad shoulders, which she notice the day she moved in and kept on noticing ever since, made a frequent appearance in her dreams, along with her nails digging into them as they both reached their peak.

Frank was a kind and unusual person and from the day she moved in, they seemed to have formed quite a friendship. Maria could always count on Frank going to the grocery store late at night whenever she forgot something because he didn’t want her going out alone or helping her around the apartment, and Frank trusted her enough to leave his pitbull Max with her whenever he had to go run some errands and couldn’t take him. Sometimes, he even left Max with her for up to a week since Maria worked from home and wasn’t at all surprised upon his return that Max had become completely besotted with his neighbour.

Their communication consisted of short conversations when they would run into each other on the stairway, yet to Maria it was always meaningful and it brightened her day just seeing Frank and hearing his deep, husky voice and throaty laughter whenever she’d make some horrible joke just for the sake of hearing that sound.

What added to his general attractiveness was the fact that Frank never made her feel uncomfortable; he never made any crude comments nor did he ever insult her in any way. He was a gentlemen, the kind her _mama_ advised her to seek for her life companion.

One of Maria’s favourite things about Frank was how flustered he’d get whenever she would be on her way out and ran into him and Frank would compliment her in the most innocent way, his gaze wandering to the side as he would tell her she looked pretty, rubbing the back of his head. To have Frank call her pretty was one of the highlights of her days.

It helped that he made her feel safe and protected with his presence alone, and whenever her eyes would meet his there was this inexplicable brightness and warmth arising in her, growing into something wonderful the more she looked at his features, the more she spent hearing his voice and got lost in the very essence of Frank Castle.

You can understand, then, why Maria found this man one of the rare ones she really liked and admired, why she enjoyed his company more than anyone else’s.

Therefore, it was needless to mention that Maria was dumbstruck by his presence even now – all broad chest and shoulders hidden behind a tight black sweater, with a shy yet bright smile and calm demeanour - more so when she noted her dear neighbour was holding a bowl in his hands.

“Hi, Fwank,” she said, breathing through her mouth and wondering if she even brushed her teeth that morning or combed her hair. She hoped shower she had taken earlier made her smell any fresher and look less like a ghost, since colour appeared to be drained from her face by the sickness.

“Hi there, Maria. Hope I’m not botherin’ you.”

“Oh, you’we not,” she responded, almost tripping over her words when Frank looked at her from under his lashes, his gaze soft.

_Jesus, he’s gonna be the death of her!_

“I, uh, I made you some chicken soup, figured it might make you feel better.”

Eyes wide, Maria asked, slightly embarrassed, “Oh, god! You’ve heawd my sneezing and coughing?”

“Hard not to with walls this thin,” chuckling, Frank looked sideways though he kept his smile on.

Maria knew how thin these walls were because on Tuesdays and Thursdays she would be lying in her bed, eyes closed, drowning in the sounds of Frank’s guitar and his unschooled yet fascinatingly soothing singing that often lulled her to sleep.

Maria apologised for the noise she had been making but Frank didn’t seem to mind. Waving his hand, he told her, “I meant to come by sooner, but, uh, I didn’t know how you’d feel about it...”

Maria smiled before another onslaught of coughing overcame her and she hid her face in a paper tissue. Inviting him in with a wave of her hand and effectively ignoring his protests, Maria headed to the kitchen and splashed some water on her face and drank some water to recover. Every muscle in her body seemed to pulsate with intense pain and for a second, she regretted inviting Frank in and having him witness firsthand her feeble state.

Sneezing again three times in a row, Maria returned to the small living room a few moments later with a spoon. Frank was already sitting on the couch and Maria noted how big he seemed in comparison to that piece of furniture, taking up almost half of it even though he sat at the very end of it.

At first, Frank looked awkward in her space, like an unnatural occurrence that was about to bolt, disappear. Yet he stayed seated, timidly smiling once he noticed her come in. He was playing with his hands, obviously feeling strange and Maria found it adorable.

Clearing her throat, she sat next to him, picking up the bowl he had brought and taking a spoonful of soup. She couldn’t help but moan at how delicious it was, how it overwhelmed her senses and simply glided down, leaving a trace of various condiments she couldn’t even name but that fit together perfectly. It soothed her dry throat.

When she lifted her gaze, Maria saw Frank looking at her intently, grinning. He seemed content she liked the soup though he never mentioned it, choosing to remain quiet as she ate the soup.

Maria grinned back once or twice, unable to contain this fluttery feeling in her stomach at the sight of Frank. As she continued to slurp the soup, Frank’s eyes wandered around the place, examining numerous paintings and drawings hanging on the walls of her apartment, leant against the walls, splayed on the floor and almost every possible surface. Paintbrushes, dirty and clean, canvases of various sizes, easels, and paints scattered around the room.

Only when she put down the bowl did he ask, motioning with his head, “You did all this?”

Beaming, Maria nodded. “Yeah. I like to try out different techniques.”

She had already told him she was an artist, the day she was moving in and they were making small talk. That day she also found out Frank was an NYPD detective who’d been in the force for ten years.

Their worlds could not be further apart, she thought then, and the notion still lingered in the back of her mind.

Frank stood up and walked around the room, taking time to look at each of her works, though he didn’t comment on any of them. Maria found herself slightly offended, because for some inexplicable reason, she wanted to be praised by Frank at least once.

When she joined him in front of a painting she finished last month – a night sky reflected in water with a storm brewing in the background and a girl with her back the observer – a shiver ran through her. Shoving her hands in the pockets of her bathrobe, Maria wondered what was going on in Frank’s head, what he was thinking as he looked at her works.

The painting was the last piece of artwork she did before any and all inspiration she had simply leaked out of her mind.

Maria’s intention to ask him was interrupted by Frank turning to her, with that soft gaze of his which was now unreadable to her as much as she tried to decipher it.

“I...” he bowed his head, silent for a few moments, before looking back at the painting in front of them, “These are all amazing. You’re incredible.”

Maria swallowed a yelp in that moment, barely containing the smile fighting its way on her face. Her heart tattooed loudly in her ears, her hands hidden in the pockets of her bathrobe wanting to reach for him.

“Th-thanks, Fwank,” she croaked, her own voice sounding so foreign to her ears, “It means a lot.”

Her face was burning up under his intense gaze, her breath quickening she thought she’d faint.

“I better leave you to rest,” clearing his throat, Frank stood a second longer looking at her as if trying to convey something his mouth couldn’t, then he moved to the coffee table to take the bowl.

He bid Maria a tentative goodbye and told her he would come by in the morning to check on her, for which Maria thanked him.

After she shut the door behind him, the pleasant warmth that was present in her body while Frank was there dissipated, leaving her feeling empty and cold inside.


	2. Chapter 2

 

It took three more days of suffering through it but the cold finally passed, leaving Maria exhausted but content for at last she could finally get down to work again. It had been too long since she created anything, the lack of inspiration and this darn cold throwing her into days-long despair.

Usually, she had enough ideas to work for days on end, sometimes forgoing sleep just to finish a drawing or a painting, knowing she wouldn’t be able to rest until it was done, and what’s more, until she was completely satisfied with it.

After taking a long, well-deserved shower to wash the sick off her and pampering herself, Maria put on an old ratty T-Shirt and coveralls that were already stained with paint to the point one couldn’t tell which colour they were originally. Her hands were already reaching for the materials splayed all over her work table under the window, itching to do something.

Maria thought of finishing a painting she had promised to one of her clients, sort of a replica of one of her earlier works that was now on permanent display in a local gallery. They liked it so much, but since the painting wasn’t on sale, they had asked Maria if she could paint it for them. She knew she could never create anything like that ever again – she used a specific mix of colours, some of which were long since discontinued, and the inspiration for that specific painting was now living two thousand miles away and she hadn’t heard from him in two years. However, Maria did want to challenge herself and see if she could recreate at least that feeling that overcame her when she painted that first piece.  

Even then, as she set the unfinished painting on an easel and took a seat in front of it, brushes all cleaned and colours prepared to be mixed, her mind was plagued by other ideas that proved hard to ignore.

She was painting a forest of vibrant greens against a fiery background when through the haze her mind conjured up another image.

Eyes the colour of wildflower honey that could turn chestnut the instant his wild emotions would prevail. Like bottomless pits of care and longing that could trap her for hours on end if  ever he’d indulge her such luxury.

The perfect curve of his cupid’s bow and his soft lips that kept words from spilling out of his mouth. Always cautious and careful not to say something too... Too _frank_ , Maria thought and laughed, almost messing up the painting as her hand twitched.

Frank, a man that couldn’t always be frank with her. Always polite, always keeping most of his thoughts hidden, thought Maria sensed why he was like that.

His banged up nose that seemed to have grown two sizes since she met him. “Had one too many fights back in my day,” he told her once when she asked him about it, both of them standing in front of their respective doors for at least five minutes, not daring to make the move. His answer made her laugh because it made him seem like an old man complaining about his youth and not a thirty-something decorated NYPD detective who still had years to live and serve and whose rough exterior was telling a new story every day.

At times, the way he would speak – sagely, patiently, shyly even, like he was choosing his words carefully in front of her - clashed completely with his exterior and the impression it left with a person – muscled, dangerous, calculated, full of crudeness and brass. Coupled with his raspy voice, it sometimes seemed to be casting a spell of sorts on Maria, making her intensely aware of the man before her and every part of him.

His hands – big yet delicate looking in spite of being covered in scars and scabs more often than not. She didn’t have much contact with them so it was only in her imagination that Maria could come close to the feeling of them gliding up her skin, searching all those sweet spots on her body that made her weak and compliant. How careful he’d be with her until she’d beg him to just give up this gentleness and take her as she so desperately wanted him to.

Frank was a kind neighbour, Maria thought as she wiped her hands on a dirty dishtowel. Not everyone would bring you warm soup and make sure you had everything you needed whilst lying sick in bed, ready to welcome death if it meant you could breathe through your nose again. Not everyone would send texts to check on you even while they were at work and probably had much more important things to do.

Maria had a feeling Frank liked her. His actions went beyond mere hospitality of a neighbour in a city where one doesn’t even know their neighbours’ names let alone their phone number.

She tried asking him out more than once, but each time she would chicken out at the last moment then chastise herself for it for the rest of the day.

Maria knew she was capable of having a conversation with Frank, any kind of conversation really. She enjoyed teasing him because his ears would turn the warmest shade of red and his lips would curve in a smile as he gazed at her, knowing what she was doing and just going along with it. He would tease her back and, in those moments, it felt like they were going in a certain direction.

Then their brief talk at the stairs would end abruptly, for no reason other than the two of them being cowards and having an inclination towards running in circles rather than getting to the point.

Sighing, Maria attempted to push all thoughts of Frank aside since they did her no good. They were a pure distraction that she had no business indulging until she was done with the painting.

Hours went by as Maria worked, occasionally taking a break to munch on a sandwich or drink some water, adamant to use daylight to her advantage.

Frank hadn’t texted that day, much to her annoyance. Maria kept checking her phone as if merely holding it would somehow make Frank remember her and send at least a hello and how are you. Was it too much to ask, she wondered bitterly before remembering herself and the status of her friendship with her gallant neighbour.

Then, she thought she should text him, wanting to prove to herself that she wasn’t such a coward, although both Frank and her behaviour indicated they were worse than a pair of awkward teenagers. Typing a quick text before she could change her mind, Maria hit send and went on with her work.

To her utmost disappointment, no message or text arrived from Frank, putting her in an ill mood once more.

It was nearing eleven at night when she finally decided she was pleased with what she had accomplished. Cleaning up after herself and letting the painting dry for the night, Maria was just brushing her teeth when a familiar, soft knock on her door made her pause with a toothbrush still in her mouth.

Running a brush through her tangled hair, Maria quickly washed out the toothpaste then ran towards the door, then attempting to tame her breathing before opening the door and greeting Frank.

He looked awful, and that was an understatement considering his appearance. Dark circles were making his eyes look hollow. His hair was slicked down but not in a neat kind of way he usually styled it. His usual stubble was now appearing more as a beard – the one thing Maria liked about this look. Other than that, Frank looked exhausted, barely standing on his feet. Even his jacket seemed two sizes too big on his slumped shoulders.

His name left her lips in a huff. “Frank.”

“Hi, Maria. Listen, I-uh,” he paused, words seemingly trapped in his throat as his gaze fell to his boots. It was a long minute before he spoke again, words barely making pass his lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your text. I got caught up at work and...”

Shaking her head, and mentally scolding herself for getting even the slightest bit angry with him earlier for not replying, Maria said, “Don’t worry. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

It was as vague as she could be. Then Frank was looking at her, silent again, his fingers twitching against his legs.

“I-uh, I gotta ask you a favour,” he started, voice strained. “I –I have to go away for awhile, and I got no one to leave Max with.”

 _Ah,_ Maria thought, _that’s what’s going on_.

See, Maria was already, partially at least, familiar with Frank’s odd way confiding he would have to go undercover. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear for weeks on end, though he always made sure she didn’t worry and that Max was in safe hands. It warmed her heart, once more, that he had so much trust in her that he would leave Max with her.

“He’s welcome to stay here for as long as you need,” Maria smiled and the way Frank sighed in relief, the way his eyes crinkled at that made her swoon. Did he really consider she would decline?

Maria invited him over for coffee, but Frank refused, politely as always, because he was tired and had to get up early tomorrow. They agreed he would bring Max to her first thing in the morning and bid her good night, their gazes lingering a second too long on each other.

Retreating back into her apartment, Maria set an alarm and crawled under the covers, sleep overcoming her.

*     *     *     *     *

It was quarter to six when her alarm went off and Maria had just enough time to take a quick shower and make a fresh pot of coffee before Frank knocked, the sound immediately followed by a familiar bark. She heard Frank shush Max, afraid the dog would wake up the rest of tenants. It made her stifle a laugh and shake her head just imagining the scene.

This time, Frank accepted her invitation to have some coffee and followed his dog inside. Max immediately jumped on Maria as soon as she opened the door, then rushed to curl on the pillow Maria kept in her apartment for him. Even before Frank managed to put his duffel bag and some food for Max next to the door and sit at the kitchen table, Max’s snores filled the space, making both of  Maria and him exchange a look and chuckle.

Setting a mug in front of him, Maria sat opposite Frank and they drank their coffee quietly, accompanied only by Max’s snores and occasional grunts. At times their eyes would lock on each other, though no words were spoken.

It was a long while before Maria gathered the courage to say anything. “So... how long do you think you’ll be away?”

“Can’t say for sure. But I brought the rest of his food from my place. And-” he paused, pulling out his wallet and placing a few hundred dollars on the table, “this is just in case.”

Maria understood.

This time it was more dangerous. He was going to be away for more than a few weeks. Hearing Frank say _just in case_ though, it sent chills down her spine. She understood that part too. He might not come back.

A sob got trapped in her throat threatening to choke her, but Maria swallowed it and braved on, engaging Frank in some miscellaneous conversation that had nothing to do with his job and him going away and the possibility of never coming back. Her hands curled around her mug that has long ago emitted all its warmth and was now just as cold as the fear gripping her chest.

When it was time to bid goodbye, she could barely stand up, her legs disobeying her. Frank took a few steps towards sleeping Max, wordlessly patting the dog’s head then shouldering his duffel. His hand reached for the knob just as Maria managed to get up.

“Frank!” His name ripped from her like a scream and a plea wrapped in one. It made him stop and turn around. Gulping, Maria reached her trembling hand towards Frank, grabbing onto his biceps. “St-stay safe. Please.” She could say no more, for this too caused her too much pain.

Frank’s eyes searched hers in that moment, as he stood almost frozen, unmoving. Then his eyes welled up, lips trembled, a soft sigh escaping him as if surprised she cared about him that much.

Not daring to think any more, Maria went on her toes and pressed her lips against his, her palm cupping the back of his head.

It lasted too briefly for she pulled back to assess his reaction, only to be met with the sweetest of smiles. Laughing, Frank pulled her to him and this time, the kiss was nothing short of passionate.

His big hands held onto her hips as his mouth took and took and Maria made no protest, her only goal to get as close to him as was physically possible.

When they pulled back, both of their lips swollen but sated, silent promises were made.

_He would do everything he could to come back. Safe and sound into her arms._

_She would wait for him as long as it took. And when he does come back, they can finally stop tip-toeing around each other._

Cupping her neck, the skin of his palm warm against it, Frank pressed a kiss to her forehead then rested his cheek against it. Maria swallowed tears, knowing she can hold them back until Frank was next to her.

She sought to absorb his warmth, his softness and roughness, his scent, everything that could keep her company until he returns.

And when he finally crossed the threshold, sparing her one last glance before descending and disappearing, Maria closed the door and slid down it, her face already wet.

She would wait for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the last chapter, but Frank and Maria wanted to reunite so... be on the lookout for one more chapter of this AU.
> 
> Please leave kudos and/or comment, feedback fuels my muse :D I love reading your thoughts on this fic. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @lightblindingme


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of this short Frank x Maria fic. Thank you to those who have taken the time to read it and leave kudos/comments. I've had a lot of fun writing this AU ans I hope you enjoyed reading it.
> 
> This chapter also features a change from past to present tense to achieve a better effect.

 

Eight months.

Thirty five weeks.

Two hundred and forty-three days.

Too many hours, minutes, and seconds to count.

That's how long Frank Castle has been gone.

*    *     *     *     *

The first few months Maria spends working on pieces she had abandoned years ago, busying herself with work so she doesn’t have to think of Frank being away. There’s a hole in her heart she tries to patch up with vast amounts of coffee, paint and daytime soap operas that turn her mind into a mush of useless storylines.

Nevertheless, her coping mechanisms work.

Her days are organised so much so she has an actual routine, as much as she tries to deny it when her friends point it out on occasional night out she allows herself.

Mornings are spent in the park with Max and a large cup of some green slush she makes herself drink to fool her body into thinking it’s getting something healthy. Max wanders around, sniffing grass, bushes and barking at an occasional squirrel that dares cross his path. Maria joins him after the green concoction has settled in her stomach to play catch with him. When Max is well tired, Maria puts him on a leash and they head towards her favourite bakery to pick up some pastries before heading home.

Back in the apartment, Max settles into his bed, chewing his toy while Maria spends at least an hour talking to her agent and replying to emails before she can resume working on her paintings.

Max is a sweetheart Maria wishes was living with her permanently. There is something so calming and wonderful in having that dog with serene attitude guard her and keep her company.

For the most part, Max sticks to his designated area of the living room where his bed is, playing or sleeping. Sometimes, while she is painting and focused on blending the colours or working on details, she’ll feel Max nudge her thigh with his snout, indicating it’s time to take a break and eat something. Other times he’ll lay beside her watching her work, occasionally grunting before dozing off. More often than not, it’s his own loud snoring that wakes him up rather than anything else. He’ll wander around the apartment seeking entertainment or food and bark at Maria when he needs to go out. Maria will take him outside to do his business and grant him a treat for being such a good boy.

With a bowl full of snacks, settled under a blanket, Maria is seldom surprised when Max joins her and they watch _The Bold and the Beautiful_ cocooned on her couch.

In the evenings, they take another, long walk around the neighbourhood before locking themselves in for the night. Maria washes her face and brushes her teeth and crawls under the covers, Max already settled on the other side.

It soothes her, having him there. Some days she talks to Max more than she talks to another human being and she finds she has no problem with that. Max’s big, brown eyes are always full of understanding, even when what she says is pure nonsense and is no way related to Max himself and his four pillar of perfect life –  enough sleep, food, play, and long walks.

Four months after they last saw Frank, there’s still no word from him.

*     *     *     *     *

Their peaceful routine is interrupted.

Gradually at first, with a few cases of mistaken identity of someone climbing up or descending the staircase that oddly resembles their person and opening of the door which both mistake for Frank’s.

Then it happens violently, at once so that neither Max nor Maria can adjust to the sight before them before the ghost of their person, face covered in bruises, clothes stained with blood stares them down in shock one night not far from their building and flees.

Max’s leash is ripped from Maria’s hand before she can process what is happening. The dog, that serene creature is too many steps ahead of her that it’s a mere miracle she catches up with him. Max’s barking echoes the streets he all but throws himself in front of a moving car to catch the man who is now too far for Maria to see.

“Max! Max! Hey, buddy.” Maria takes him by the collar and he struggles against it, paws still grabbing for the direction the person left in.

“He’s gone, Max. He’s gone. Calm down.”  This time it works, though barely.

Maria starts leading him back from where they came from, Max glancing back and whining at the empty street behind them.  

Neither of them sleep that night.

Max spends it whining and howling at the window, calling out for someone who is not there. Maria twists and turns in her bed, abandoning it after a few hours to join Max in the living room. She rubs his back and he places his face on her lap, still whining so painfully it hurts her.

*    *    *    *    *

The next couple of weeks that hole in her heart starts to grow bigger and somehow deeper. Nothing she does is able to suffocate the hollowness of her being.

It’s insane, what she’s feeling, She has only ever shared one kiss with Frank. There was nothing - she stops herself there.

_There is something._

_There is everything_.

From the way he smiles – at times shyly, at times openly. From the way he laughs – his whole body joining in. From the way he understand even the unspoken between them.

As successful as both Max and she have been fighting missing Frank, it all came crushing down the night Max ran after someone (they both know who it was, it’s only Maria that’s in ardent denial) and they never quite recovered.

*    *     *     *    *

Six months after Frank went on his assignment, Maria finally dares to use the key he had given her long time ago and enters his apartment, Max following behind her.

It is a strange feeling, being there for the first time. It’s even worse being there without the man himself. Max immediately goes to survey each and every room, his paws making the only noise in this otherwise empty apartment.

Maria wanders off to a shelf with various photos displayed there.

There’s one of Frank when he graduated from the Academy and the one of his whole class though he is hard not to notice in spite of so many other faces there. Frank’s sturdy built is hard to miss.

Then there’s a few of photos of him and his friends - laughing, bottles of bear on the table; a group of them gathered around the hospital bed with a man whose leg had obviously been amputated grinning the widest.

The last one is photo of a puppy with floppy ears and tongue sticking out nestled in someone’s hands. No doubt the puppy is Max. Grinning wistfully, Maria takes another look at the photos before leaving them behind as she goes to open the window.

The apartment has been vacant for months now, thick layers of dust finding their way on every surface and crevice.

As her gaze travels around Frank’s territory – his life, his memories – something in Maria breaks. Her cheeks are covered in tears long before sobs rip from her throat, one after another. Absentmindedly plopping onto the couch she hides her face in her hands and lets herself cry her pain out.

She misses him. Maria misses Frank.

All these months she’s been fighting herself, her feelings, pushing the thoughts of him away. Now they came back with vengeance.

Max, probably hearing her cry, runs into the room and sits in front of her without a sound. Maria notices him minutes later, when her throat starts  to hurt and she feels nauseous. When she finally shows her face to him, the look Max gives her almost sends her into another crying session.

Max starts to lick her face, his paws grabbing at support as he tries to climb into her lap, forgetting he’s no longer a puppy. When he finally succeeds, Maria and he cuddle on the couch, both of them grieving and praying for Frank in their own way.

*    *     *     *     *

Frank-filled dreams start making their regular appearance after that.

Sometimes Maria sees him being shot, falling onto his knees as blood seeps out of his body.

Sometimes she sees him beaten, bruises covering every inch of his skin, the pain he feels obvious in occasional hisses and nothing more.

Other times, he’s in her bed making love to her – tenderly, sweetly, worshiping her like no one before ever has. His fingers tangle in her hair, his hot breath caresses her skin as his fingers explore her depths and she screams out the pleasure he gives her.

And other times, he’s lying on the bed, naked save for a sheet covering his behind, asleep and beautiful.

Maria can’t tell which dream hurts more.

*    *    *    *    *

A sketch pad and a pencil in hand, back against the wall, Maria draws the fifth drawing of Frank for the day. She doesn’t know what the purpose of the drawings is. She only knows it helps her commit his face to memory, helps her not go insane worrying about what could be happening to him.

Max is always at her side, eyes cast towards the paper in her hand as she creates the image of his person. She can tell she did a good job when Max waggles his tail and barks happily at the drawing.

It’s when Maria feels slightly better and her ache is not as deep.

*    *     *     *    *

A month passes and Maria counts a hundred and twenty seven drawings of Frank and various accompanying subjects.

Sometimes it’s just Frank – his profile, a very detailed drawing of his lips and stubbled jawline, his thick fingers and long forearms with protruding veins, his eyes.

And then there are those of Frank and her, born out of her imagination and nothing else.

His arms around her, holding her tightly, his face hidden in her neck. There’s something sublime in it, intimate, a softness she has not experienced yet feels nonetheless.

It’s real and it’s not. It makes her cry and smile and yearn for the moment he’ll come back, whenever that is.

It’s her favourite drawing and the only one she dared frame and display on a wall of her apartment.

The others are scattered around – the vast majority is scattered on the living room floor and Max is always careful not to step on any of them. You can find them on the coffee table, on the kitchen counter, next to her bed, under her pillow. There are some in the drawers and under the TV, whereas some are stacked in her wardrobe.

It is utterly insane and she knows it.  She can’t stop.

This is her coping mechanism now.

She goes to sleep and dreams of Frank, wakes up and draws him, goes for a walk with Max and their gazes get stuck to each and every man they see hoping it’s Frank, then go back home and worry about him.

It’s an endless cycle that starts affecting them both and by day two hundred and forty-two Max and Maria are barely holding onto the memory of a stranger they lost on the street all those months ago.

*    *    *    *    *

When he finally appears, not a dream but a reality dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, Maria almost faints.

Max tears off his leash and jumps on Frank, licking his face, reaching for him with his paws. Frank is laughing, telling him what a good boy he is and the whole scene is simply bizarre to Maria who is standing there awkwardly as people pass them by.

This is not how she imagined the reunion.

In front of their building in broad daylight.

There’s not a cut or a bruise on him, at least not visible. He’s clean shaven and his haircut seems fresh. There are a few more wrinkles around his eyes but the eyes themselves are just as warm and soft as she remembers.

“Hey, you,” he tells her, suppressing a smile.

It renders Maria speechless.

“Maria?” This time he sounds worried and as he detangles himself from Max, he comes to stand inches away from her, forehead furrowed.

Maria forces herself to reply, still struck by his presence. “Hey, you.” Her face is doing something... she’s smiling, beaming at Frank who takes her hands in his, face full of joy.

“You miss me?” There’s a hint of teasing in his tone, but Maria registers the almost imperceptible lowering of his voice carrying some additional meaning.

Recognising it, Maria wraps her arms around his neck, their gazes locked.“Like crazy.”

*    *     *     *     *

It’s well past ten when Frank appears behind her, his arms coming around her body, his chin settling on her shoulder. It’s a wonderful feeling to have him this close to her.

Closing her eyes and smiling, Maria caresses his face with her free hand, the other still holding a paintbrush.

“Whatcha doin’?” His lips close around her earlobe, teeth grazing it making her shudder.

“I’m painting us,” she replies simply, turning so she can kiss him.

It’s been one of her favourite things to do since Frank came back and practically moved in with her.

He didn’t mind seeing so many drawings of himself in her apartment, he was just surprised anyone would find him a worthy subject. Ever since, Frank has been a well of infinite inspiration for Maria. He got used to her painting them, sketching them, making them transcend the plain of reality.

While he’s kissing her, Frank takes the paintbrush from her hand so gently she doesn’t even notice it. Then he lifts her to her feet, still not breaking the kiss and tugs on the shirt she’s wearing. It’s one of his she confiscated and forgot to return.

“You can do that later. Right now... I’ve got something else in mind.”

With that, everything else becomes a blur that only later, when Max tries to snuggle between them, Maria wonders at what point did they end  up on the floor covered in paint.

*     *     *     *     *

Three months later, while they are sitting on a bench in Max’s favourite park, Maria informs him she’s pregnant.

Frank’s stunned at first, that Maria thinks he might end things.

Before she can say anything to him, Frank takes a box out of his pocket ad kneels before her, asking her to marry him because he loves her, has loved her for months, and he wants her in his life forever.

Maria asks him if having a baby changes anything and he replies, “It changes everything, And nothing. I want you because I love you. And I’ll love our baby no matter what.”

When she says yes, grinning from ear to ear, Frank lifts her up in his arms and twirls around as they both laugh, attracting Max’s attention. The dog comes running, obviously curious to see what’s happening. When his humans say nothing, he starts barking and jumping around to get their attention. When he succeeds, he’s got both Frank and Maria hugging him, though they’ve only got eyes for each other.

*     *    *    *    *

Five days later, Frank buys them a house in a nice neighbourhood with good lighting and a room he is going to refurbish into Maria’s studio.

Six months later, when Lisa Barbara Castle opens her eyes, she’s got her daddy mumbling something the baby can’t understand but Maria hears the promise spoken in a whisper.

“I’ll keep you safe, baby girl. I’ll keep you both safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and/or comment, feedback fuels my muse :D 
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://lightblindingme.tumblr.com/)


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